


Bleeding Little Blue Boy

by pixieashton



Category: Pierce the Veil
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Perrentes - Freeform, hurt!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixieashton/pseuds/pixieashton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Tone?"<br/>A short pause. "Yeah?"<br/>"I hope you hate mountain bikes as much as I do now."</p><p>-------------</p><p>Mike looks after Tony after his accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Little Blue Boy

**Author's Note:**

> hey so im back  
> im throwing it back to my ptv days nice  
> this is based on the accident tony recently had i needed cheering up so i did this its totally self indulgent and for that i apologise  
> i jsUT LOVE TONY SO MUCH I HAD TO DO THIS SORRY

"Are you sure there's nothing you need? What about an extra blanket? You look cold. Tea?"

 

Tony looked up from his phone, seeing in front of him an eager-looking Mike, kneeling next to the sofa so that they were eye-level. "I'm fine, Mikey. Just like I was when you asked ten minutes ago." Tony lifted his hand to meet his boyfriend's cheek, and began to stroke along the bone with his thumb.

 

Mike smiled and took Tony's hand into his own, lacing their fingers together. "I just don't want you getting hurt again, is all. You really scared me, Tone." Mike leaned forwards and gently pressed their lips together, drawing back just as quick, terrified of hurting his baby.

 

"How about that cup of tea?" Tony said after a while of quiet, smirking.

 

"Funny, I thought you said you didn't need anything from me," Mike commented, but still got up and headed to the kitchen, not before giving Tony a peck on the nose.

 

When he re-entered the living room with two piping-hot mugs of tea, Mike found Tony asleep on the sofa, one hand between his head and the pillow and the other curled around the turtle stuffie Mike bought him for his birthday a few months back. The thin sheet that had been delicately draped over his body had now been kicked to the foot of the sofa, exposing his boxer-clad thighs and bandaged chest, blue and purple bruises arranged in clusters on his stomach. His eyebrows furrowed, proving discomfort, juxtaposing against the delicacy of his body.

 

"I got your tea, baby," Mike said quietly, unsure as to whether or not wake him from his slumber in case it caused Tony more discomfort than it was worth. Nonetheless, Tony groaned and slowly opened his eyes, bringing a fist up to rub at his bleary eyes.

 

"You want it now?" Mike asked, raising the mug a little higher in the air.

 

Tony shook his head and pat the empty space next to him on the sofa. "Want cuddles." The tea was soon forgotten.

 

\----------

 

Mike was laying on his back, with Tony on his side next to him, his face tucked into the side of Mike's chest, his hands clasping onto Mike's baggy shirt. They had been like that for the past three hours, talking. About that time when Tony got so intoxicated he climbed the roof of the tour bus and it took over an hour of persuasion to finally get him down. About that time Mike was dared by Jaime to eat a half-eaten sandwich from someone's trash and was ill in bed for the rest of the week. They spoke about the future; how many kids they wanted, or if they wanted them at all. What was the plan after the band? They spoke about the tour that was to start in the next few weeks. Tony couldn't go, he was to make a full recovery before heading back out on the road. And what about Mike? He wouldn't be allowed to stay, _he's_ not the one with the broken ribs and torn shoulder. Tony once again told him how he would be fine, that he'll be back to his old self in no time. How they won't be separated for long.

 

They spoke way into the early hours of the morning, the conversation slowly getting more and more sluggish; words forgotten, sentences broken by yawns, the lively, error-free playing of fingers steadying until they were simply intertwined and resting on Mike's chest.

 

"Hey, Tone?"

A short pause. "Yeah?"

"I hope you hate mountain bikes as much as I do now."

**Author's Note:**

> this was really short sorry but i havent written in ages and i miss it  
> hmu on [tumblr](lolitahalsey.tumblr.com) if ya want okay bye


End file.
